Distance is relative. Although it can be measured in kilometers, its real value are the hours spent in the means of transportation. Subjectively, time flies the fastest in trains, while the slowest in tiny, rickety buses that ‘sound’ as if it was their last journey ever.

I have to get back to Hanoi. My passport is waiting there – this one and only which allows to travel freely. Logical plan would direct me to the east of Laos, and from there to the capital of Vietnam. Nevertheless, journey through Thailand seems to be shorter. The familiar landscape and the thought of fresh, sweet pineapple immediately reset kilometers on the meter. To the east, by the west, to the north by the south. In any case, in two weeks I will get to my final destination. Meanwhile, I make the loop and land in Chiang Rai.